


There's No Such Thing as Ghosts

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, days of spoop, just fluff, pleAse validate me, purely for shits and giggles, spooky lil halloween ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4971502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: two strangers exploring the same "haunted" house that thinks the other is a ghost au<br/>or<br/>the one where Sam and Gabriel are unintentionally the world's best matchmakers and Dean forcibly comes out of the closet</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Such Thing as Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> part of the [days of spoop](http://thearchangelofsass.tumblr.com/tagged/days%20of%20spoop) ficlet series on my tumblr

            _I can’t believe Sam talked me into this,_ Dean thinks as he approaches the derelict house, _if only he knew._ It’s not really Sam’s fault. He was still a little kid when their dad went crazy, blaming spirits and monsters on the untimely death of their mom. _Sammy just wanted to dare his older brother to spend a few hours in a haunted house,_ Dean reaffirms. Despite any misgivings he may have, Dean simply grips his flashlight tighter and wrenches the ancient front door open.

            _I can’t believe Gabriel talked me into this,_ Castiel thinks as he looks around the dusty kitchen of the old house. _Contrary to popular belief, there’s really no such thing as a gho-_ His train of thought dies as soon as he hears a large door creaking open, followed by two firm footsteps. Castiel instantly darts into the nearby pantry, shutting the door behind him. _It’s going to be a long night,_ he thinks with a sigh.

            _Maybe this isn’t so bad after all,_ Dean thinks as he stands in the foyer of the house. He swears he heard a faint skittering when he entered the building but that was probably rats. _Definitely rats._ Dean relaxes a little, thinking that the night will be a piece of cake. That is, however, before he hears a loud crashing from the room on his right. _Dammit!_ He looks around for an escape. His eye catches on a nearby staircase and he races up the stairs, dust billowing around his feet.

            Castiel curses his dust allergy as he stumbles out of the pantry. An ill-timed sneeze had caused him to lurch backwards into a shelf of canned foods, creating a cacophony of falling spaghetti-o’s. _If the ghost didn’t know I was here, it sure does now,_ Castiel thinks. He sets out to find a new hiding spot and steps lightly, wary of the groaning floorboards. The darkness makes it difficult to move around and Castiel curses himself for not bringing a flashlight. He ruefully remembers himself saying to Gabriel, “I got this.” _I don’t got this._

            Castiel moves out of the kitchen area, and goes back to the foyer, where there is at least some illumination from the moonlight. He heavily contemplates just running out of the house and jumping ship, but an image of a smirking Gabriel flits across his mind. Castiel steels himself, and looks around to consider his options. He sees a flight of stairs and weighs the risk of going up them. He is distracted however, by something on the stairs. _Footprints? In the dust?_ Castiel considers bolting again, but decides against it. _I’ll track down the ghost,_ he thinks determinedly, _Gabriel would approve._ He goes up, trying his best to not step on the looser floor boards.

            _I’m loosing my mind,_ Dean thinks, _I could have sworn something was coming up the stairs, but there’s nothing._ Dean breathes heavily. _I’ve been squatting in this bedroom for at least a half hour and it’s just been quiet. Too quiet._ As if cued by his words, a faint thump sounds, resonating through the thin walls. _Sonuvabitch. Where can I run?_ Dean suddenly remembers the small closet he saw at the top of the stairs, and races out of the room, not even bothering to be quiet. He wrenches the closet door open and closes it behind him. He feels his heart beating out of his chest. Instinctively, he reaches for something to ground himself, and his hand connects with something cold. _Cold?_ Dean screams, and bursts out of the closet, racing down the stairs and out of the house.

            The nerves of closet squatting for about a half hour are starting to get Castiel. Just as he starts to think that he has nothing to fear, the closet door swings open. He freezes in terror, and before he’s even blinked, the closet door has closed itself. _Maybe it was just the wind?_ Castiel feels his heart pounding in his chest and reaches out towards the other side of the closet for some kind of support. His searching fingers are met with a warm, calloused hand. _A hand_? Castiel shrieks and shrinks back against the wall, although he admits to himself the sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. _What the hell! What type of ghost is warm?_ The ghost reopens the closet door and Castiel considers this a pretty good sign that he should leave. He sprints down the stairs, not even hesitating to run through the already open front door. As soon as he’s out of the house, he flops down on the brown front lawn, sighing in relief.

            “I’m glad that’s over.” He says, panting.

            “Me too.” Says a voice next to him. Dean and Castiel turn to look at each other and start screaming again.

            “You’re the ghost!” Dean yells.

            “No you’re the ghost!” Castiel counters. “I can assure you I’m human and not an apparition.” Dean squints, then pokes Castiel suspiciously.

            “Dude you’re friggin’ cold for a human.” Dean says. “Here.” He takes off his green jacket and passes it to the other man. Their hands brush and Dean feels himself blushing. He hastily sticks out a hand after Castiel puts on the jacket, knowing that his words will fail him. “Dean. Dean Winchester.”

            “Castiel Novak.”

            “Casti- Caste-” Dean’s face scrunches up in concentration. “Cas. What brings you out to this haunted house?”

            “My brother.” Cas says with a sigh. “Gabriel is always getting me into trouble.”

            “I know what you mean.” Dean replies. “My brother Sammy dared me to stay in the house for the whole night.”

            “How long has it been?” Castiel asks. Dean looks down at his watch.

            “About two hours.” Dean replies, slightly disappointed. Castiel laughs and Dean thinks it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever heard.

            “Well, Cas,” Dean says, “Since I have the rest of the night to kill, you wanna go grab a drink?” Dean rubs the back of his neck nervously, but Castiel just smiles.

            “I’d like that,” Cas replies as Dean helps him up off the grass. “At least nobody can haunt us at the bar.” Dean grins and, as he holds Castiel’s hand, thinks that he should maybe do more of Sammy’s stupid dares.


End file.
